


Maximus at Home

by PeterVermont



Category: Gladiator (2000)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-17
Updated: 2020-08-17
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:41:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25953907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PeterVermont/pseuds/PeterVermont
Summary: Maximus working as a farmer when he receives a request to return to war from Emperor Marcus Aurelius.This is only loosely based on the movie and I made up the names of his wife, child, and former soldier friend and the location, etcetera.It is my first foray into fanfic and I just wanted to give a sense of what Maximus lost when he went to war and why he went.
Relationships: Maximus Decimus Meridius/Maximus Decimus Meridius' Wife
Kudos: 2





	Maximus at Home

###  Maximus At Home

General  Maximus Decimus Meridius tossed the dried wheat expertly into the wagon. His ox, Aura stood at the front, placidly chewing her cud. Aura was his work companion, much like her namesake had been in his youth. Not that he could ever acknowledge the inspiration for Aura’s name. Emperor Marcus Aurelius was his friend and had a sense of humor but emperors were notably not amused at anything that touched on their dignity.

The wheat field sloped gently, as did the whole valley, leading to the Estancia river and the town of the same name. As the river approached the sea, the buildings grew more plentiful. Maximus, with the wealth of a successful general, had chosen this prime land partly for the practical reasons -- the excellent soil, the temperate climate, the access to the sea to ship his produce. He paused to see the glittering sea, with trim sails of the fishing boats and had to acknowledge he had mainly chosen it for its beauty.

The harvest was good. The Andalusian sun was hot, but not the searing drought that had struck further south. The rains had come, late, but soon enough and plentiful.

He heard the bell and turned toward the sound. Rousella stood by the entrance statues, the villa large behind her. He had brought the statues, beautiful carved nymphs, from a land whose people he had conquered. Rousella waved brightly towards him. Seeing she had gotten his attention, she let the eager young boy at her side loose.

Like the nymphs, Rousella too was from a foreign land. Prized but not a prize, he had won her heart and she his in far away Anglia. Her Latin was good - her family had been citizens for two generations, but her accent betrayed her provincial origins. Politics in Rome, being what they were, life there would have been difficult for her.

The little boy, arms windmilling as he ran, jumping over the cut wheat, was nearly to him.

“Daddy! Daddy!”

Maximus knelt down and held out his arms. 

“Oomph! You’re getting big, Julius!”

“Soon I’ll be as big as you Daddy! I’ll fight the Picts and the Britons!”

“Ah, will you now? The Picts and the Britons are loyal Romans these days or so they say. More likely you will fight alongside them.”

“Mama says it is time for lunch.”

Max made a show of looking up, shielding his eyes to gauge the height of the sun.

“So it is. Can you get Aura her bucket of water from the wagon?”

“I can do it!” Julius said proudly.

As they walked back to the villa, Maximus’ arm on Julius’ small shoulder, the sounds of the small birds in the hedgerow accompanied the excited description of the boy’s morning adventures.

In the cool of the evening, Max walked along the hedgerow to his neighbor Decidus. They had served together in the Fifth Legion, in Anglia. Max had been a captain then and Decidus his sergeant. Even lame, Decidus was still a good sparring partner. And he made good wine. It was Decidus who had told him of this place.

Decidus had started out mainly in wheat, the beating heart of the empire, but was experimenting with fruit. Dates traveled well and there were ways to dry apricots that looked promising.

They sat in Decidus’ courtyard, vines entwined in the latticework. Decidus added wine to Maximus’ water until Maximus tilted his chin. 

“So, Maximus. It looks like the people of Germania are not so eager to join our little empire. They are giving the Fifth quite a time.”

“Where did you hear that?”

“I didn’t hear it exactly. I saw recruiters in Estancia offering more than the usual.”

“Any takers?”

“A few farm kids wet their ears. No mature men. They are offering quite a sum for veterans.”

“I’ve done my twenty and more. I’m finally settling into this life. Julius looks to be a fine son. These next few years are important for a boy to have his father. And Rousella and I are hoping the gods will bless us with another child.”

“I know. Remember who you are talking to - I’ve heard your mooning a thousand leagues from here.”

“So, you think you can best me this time, old man?”, Max asked.

Decidus got up and moved over and then squatted with just his right leg to retrieve the wooden gladius practice swords from their chest. The left leg extended backwards, unable to fully bend, the twisted knot of scarring marking where Maximus had pulled the spear that ended Decidus’ career.

“Old man? That’s rich coming from you. Aye, I’ll tan your britches… General.”

Maximus rose and took the offered sword.

An hour later, Maximus was tired and sweaty walking back in the purple light. Different birds were twittering now. In the yard, he let Julius dump a bucket of water over his head - which never failed to elicit giggles.

After dying and changing into a clean tunic Maximus tousled Julius’ hair. “Time for all young Romans to get to bed”.

“I’m not tired!” Julius cried but a yawn betrayed him.

Rosella took Max’s hand as they crept out of the sleeping boys room. They went to the balcony where Maximus clasped her shoulders from behind as they looked towards the sea.

She turned inside his arms, tilting her lips towards him. “Time for all not-so-young Romans to go to bed.”

The next day a courier came to the farm, the imperial trappings on the rider and horse unmistakable.

Maximus carefully unwrapped the wax engraved wooden tablet.

“”My dear Maximus,

I pray to the gods this finds you and your family well. I write as your friend and not as your emperor. I know you have earned your rest and I will not order you to break it.

I am worried. The war against Germania is going poorly. My generals do not execute my plans with a will. My spies in Rome tell me Commodos is sending letters to the front which he has no business doing. I am old and they start to look to my successor.

I ask, dear friend, that you come and command my troops.

I promise that at the end of the campaign you may return home with my thanks.

For love of Rome,

Marcus Aurelius”

There was no mistaking Marcus’ cursive even had the royal courier and seal not already convinced him of its authenticity.

He put away the message. Rousella looked at him,

“Orders?”, she asked.

“No not orders.”

She ran to him. With her arms wrapped around him she cried, “Thank the gods! I was afraid they were going to steal you away from me again.”

He held her but could not look into her face.

“Not orders. A request. A request from the emperor”

She backed away. “You can’t! He can’t! He promised you!”

“Rousella, he gave us all this. He is my oldest friend.”

“No! He did not give you this. You earned this! How many times did you nearly die? He would not be emperor except for you. You owe us - your family! You owe him nothing!”

There was little conversation at dinner. Julius had a clay horse that he kept trying to entice with morsels while Rousella stared at Maximus. He kept his eyes down.

Later that night, each of them lay stiffly on their side of the bed. Their hands met in the middle. Moments later they were making love, even as they cried, uncertain what they were saying.

Maximus sleepily opened his eyes. What had woken him? A faint smell of burning?

He carefully moved Rousella’s enveloping arms and sat up.

He heard a horse cantering into his courtyard.

As he reached the doorway, a loud thumping sound erupted.

_ “ _ Wake up! Max, wake up!”

Maximus pulled the door open, even as Decidus’ fist was raised to hit it again.

“Decidus, what’s wrong?”

“It’s the harbor. It’s been attacked.”

Max retrieved his sword from near the door. He went out and saddled Triumph as Decidus unbarred the stable double doors. Aura mooed, unaccustomed to this nighttime furor.

By the time Max and Decidus got there, the raiders were gone. One warehouse on the wharf was full ablaze but the townspeople were working hard to keep the fire from spreading.

Decidus and Max stopped their panting horses at water’s edge, the flames reflecting.

As they dismounted the mayor, Olber, ran forward.

“General, they’re gone.”

“Have you sent word to the governor?”

“Yes, by my fastest rider. They will dispatch a ship, may it do them some good!”

Maximus nodded approvingly. “Who were they?”

“They weren’t Romans! They wore furs. Bronze weapons only.”

“And the ships?”, Decidus asked.

“Long, narrow. Undecked -- like a Penteconter. Square sails. Oars. High prow.”

The governor would station some troops in the town, in case the raiders came back. That was unlikely with the naval squadron now alerted. A Hemiolia, with its thirty rowers would soon be on station to protect the harbor.

Their faces darkened by ask, the sweaty tired men let their horse walk slowly in the dawn light. Decidus spat, “Even here, the barbarians still attack us!”

Maximus grimaced. “We will only be safe when Rome is the world.”

They walked a bit further on, letting the horses set the pace. 

“The emperor has asked for my help. Germania. Troubles within the ranks.”

Decidus pushed his horse closer and put his hand on Maximus’ shoulder.

Nodding back to the town, with smoke from the warehouse still spiraling upwards. “Rome is not yet complete, my brother. An emperor cannot be lightly refused. I will look after Rousella and Julius.”

Decidus left him at the crossroads, heading to his home. Maximus continued, thinking how he would bid his family farewell.


End file.
